The school gates were finally open again.
Students poured in like nothing weird had happened the past few days—no floods, no rain chaos, just backpacks and complaints.
Emma arrived as usual. Calm. On time.
She found Diana near their classroom.
"…Good morning," Emma said.
"Morning," Diana replied casually.
Then—
She reached into her jacket.
And pulled out a bird.
A very familiar bird.
Blue feathers.
Long beak.
Huge feet.
The pūkeko.
It stood there in Diana's hands, completely unbothered, blinking slowly like this was just another weekday.
Emma stopped walking.
Stared.
"…Where," Emma said carefully, "did you get that."
Diana smiled proudly. "I liked him."
"That does not answer the question."
"So I stole him."
Silence.
The bird let out a soft kek-kek sound.
Emma slowly looked from the bird… to Diana… then back to the bird.
"…You cannot bring zoo animals to school."
"He followed me willingly," Diana said. "We bonded."
The pūkeko pecked Diana's sleeve once.
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. "…You committed a crime."
"A small one."
"That bird has a habitat."
"He has vibes."
Students nearby started staring.
One whispered, "Is that a bird?"
Another said, "Why does it have such big feet?"
Emma grabbed Diana's arm. "We are returning it. Immediately."
Diana resisted slightly. "But look at him."
The pūkeko puffed up its chest and took a dramatic step.
Emma paused.
"…He does walk with confidence."
Diana grinned. "SEE?"
Emma tightened her grip again. "…After class, we take him back. Safely."
Diana sighed. "Fine."
The bird hopped onto Diana's shoulder like it owned her.
Emma closed her eyes for one second.
Just one.
"…My life is not normal," she muttered.
The pūkeko agreed.
Arthur arrived a little late, hoodie up, earphones half-on.
His eyes instinctively searched the hallway.
Found Emma.
Same calm posture. Same unreadable expression.
And yeah—
he still loved how she looked.
He slowed his steps without realizing.
Then—
Emma turned slightly toward Diana, who was casually letting the pūkeko perch on her shoulder like it paid tuition.
"Hey," Emma said, voice thoughtful. "By the way, Diana."
"Hm?"
"You're blonde. And you have red eyes."
A pause.
"I always wondered why."
Arthur, walking closer, slowed even more. He was close enough to hear now.
Diana blinked.
"Oh. That."
She shrugged like she was talking about the weather.
"It's from my great great great great—" she squinted, counting on her fingers, "—GREAT grandpa."
Emma waited.
Arthur waited.
The bird waited.
"He fought an animal," Diana continued. "Had red eyes. Not sure what animal exactly. Big. Angry. Probably illegal."
"…Of course," Emma said.
"Anyway," Diana went on, "the blood spilled on his eyes and nerves or something. Messed him up. Boom. Red eyes."
Arthur frowned slightly. "…That's not how genetics—"
"And," Diana added, cutting him off unintentionally, "after that, his nerves got really strong. Like—abnormally strong."
She flexed her fingers. "Didn't feel pain much. Didn't panic. Didn't freeze."
Emma's gaze sharpened.
"So it passed down," Emma said quietly.
"Yeah," Diana nodded. "Not everyone gets it. Guess I won the lottery."
Emma looked at Diana again.
The fearlessness.
The way she stared down a gorilla.
The way danger didn't register the same way.
"…Now I understand," Emma said.
Diana tilted her head. "Understand what?"
"Why you're gifted," Emma replied. "Your reactions. Your control under pressure."
Arthur felt a chill go down his spine—not fear, but awe.
These people are not normal.
Diana grinned. "So basically—built different."
Emma nodded once. "Yes."
The pūkeko let out a confident kek and took a step forward.
Arthur finally spoke again. "Uh… Diana?"
"Yeah?"
"You're holding a zoo bird."
"Oh right," Diana said casually.
Emma closed her eyes. "…That problem still exists."
Arthur watched them—the calm genius, the fearless chaos, the bird with authority feet—
And thought, very clearly:
I transferred into the wrong school.
Or maybe—
The most interesting one.
After school, the sky was calm. The halls slowly emptied.
Emma and Diana walked side by side.
Emma broke the silence.
"…Have you ever tried going to the hospital?" she asked.
Diana blinked. "For what?"
"For that," Emma said, glancing briefly at Diana's eyes. "Your nerves. Your reactions."
Diana shrugged. "No. Never felt sick."
"That's exactly why," Emma replied.
A pause.
"…Okay," Diana said. "I'm curious now."
So they went.
----
The hospital smelled clean and quiet.
White walls. Soft beeping sounds.
Diana sat on the bed, swinging her legs casually. "You think they'll tell me I'm secretly a superhero?"
"No," Emma said flatly. "If you were, I'd already know."
A doctor entered, polite, professional.
"Blood test first."
Diana barely reacted as the needle went in.
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "…You didn't flinch."
"Should I?"
Minutes passed.
The doctor stared at the results.
Frowned.
Adjusted his glasses.
"…That's odd."
Emma straightened. "What is?"
"Her blood markers," the doctor said slowly. "They're… unusual. Stress hormones are extremely low. Adrenal response is regulated far beyond normal range."
Diana leaned forward. "Is that bad?"
"It's not supposed to be like this," the doctor replied.
Next came nerve testing.
Electrodes. Light shocks.
The doctor increased the level.
Then increased it again.
Nothing.
Diana didn't even tense.
The machine beeped sharply.
"…This doesn't make sense," the doctor murmured.
He checked the screen again.
"Her nerve conductivity is abnormally strong," he said. "Pain signals are suppressed. Reflex pathways are… reinforced."
Emma's eyes narrowed.
"So she doesn't panic," Emma said. "And she doesn't freeze."
"Yes," the doctor nodded slowly. "Her nervous system reacts with clarity instead of fear."
Diana tilted her head. "So I'm built different."
The doctor didn't smile.
"…This level of nerve strength shouldn't exist naturally."
Silence settled in the room.
Emma looked at Diana.
At the same girl who stared down a gorilla.
"…That explains everything," Emma said quietly.
The doctor hesitated. "We'll need to run more tests."
Diana hopped off the bed. "Do I get a sticker?"
Emma exhaled. "…You are impossible."
But deep down—
She wasn't surprised.
Not even a little.
The doctor cleared his throat and rolled a small machine over.
"Alright," he said, professional but clearly curious now. "Let's do a fist strength test."
Diana's eyes lit up. "Oh? Finally, something fun."
Emma crossed her arms. "Don't break it."
"No promises."
The doctor handed Diana the grip dynamometer. "Squeeze as hard as you can. Just once."
Diana wrapped her fingers around it casually.
She looked at Emma. "Like this?"
"Yes," the doctor nodded. "But don't overdo—"
CRRRK.
The needle jumped.
Then jumped again.
Then slammed into the far end of the scale.
The machine let out a sharp BEEP and froze.
The doctor blinked.
"…That's… odd."
He reset it. "Let's try again. Gently."
Diana sighed. "Okay, gentle."
She squeezed.
CRACK.
A faint fracture line appeared on the plastic casing.
The numbers spiked—
well beyond human average.
The doctor's mouth slowly fell open.
"That's not possible," he whispered.
Emma leaned in, eyes sharp. "How high is it compared to normal?"
The doctor swallowed. "An adult male athlete averages around 55–65 kilograms of grip force."
He stared at the screen.
"…She exceeded the upper measurable limit."
Diana looked down at the device. "Did I win?"
The doctor didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at her hands.
"No visible muscle hypertrophy," he muttered. "No strain. No tremor."
Emma realized something.
"…It's not just strength," she said. "It's efficiency. Her nerves tell her muscles exactly what to do. No waste."
The doctor nodded slowly. "Yes. Perfect signal transmission."
Diana shrugged. "So basically—"
She flexed her fist.
"Strong nerves + strong grip = me."
The doctor finally spoke, serious now.
"This level of strength, paired with her nervous system…"
He looked at Emma.
"…In a dangerous situation, she wouldn't hesitate. She wouldn't feel fear. She wouldn't stop."
Emma met his gaze.
"I know," she said quietly.
Diana smiled, completely carefree.
"So… can I go now?"
The doctor stared at the cracked machine on the table.
"…We'll pretend this test never happened."
They left the hospital as the sun started to dip, streets calm and quiet.
Diana was walking like nothing happened, hands behind her head.
"That doctor was funny," she said. "Did you see his face?"
Emma was silent. Thinking.
Then she spoke.
"…Diana."
"Hm?"
"Show me your belly."
Diana stopped walking. "What?"
Emma turned to her, expression completely serious. "Now."
"…Why?"
Emma stepped closer. "Just do it."
Diana hesitated. "…You're weird, you know that?"
Emma reached out and lifted the hem of Diana's shirt herself.
"HEY—"
Diana gave up and raised it the rest of the way.
Silence.
Defined muscles.
Clear abs.
Not bulky. Not trained-looking.
Just… naturally there. Clean and sharp, like they'd always existed.
Emma stared.
"…You don't train," Emma said.
"Nope."
"You don't work out."
"Nope."
"You eat like an animal."
"HEY."
Emma exhaled slowly.
"…Yet your core strength is developed."
She lightly pressed two fingers against Diana's stomach.
Solid.
No flinch.
"No tension response either," Emma murmured. "Your muscles stay engaged even at rest."
Diana looked down at herself. "…Is that bad?"
"No," Emma replied. "It's abnormal."
Diana grinned. "Built. Different."
Emma let go of her shirt.
"This confirms it," Emma said. "Your body is constantly prepared. Like it expects impact."
Diana scratched her head. "So if I get punched—"
"You won't fold," Emma finished. "You'll react."
Diana's smile softened a bit. "Huh."
They resumed walking.
The streetlights flickered on.
Emma glanced at Diana once more.
"…Promise me something."
Diana looked over. "What?"
"Don't test your limits for fun," Emma said quietly.
Diana laughed. "No promises."
Emma sighed.
"…At least warn me first."
Diana bumped her shoulder. "Deal."
Chapter end